


Two Truths and a Lie

by beckettemory



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Loneliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10336661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckettemory/pseuds/beckettemory
Summary: It's a game, brought out by teachers when their lesson plan goes out the window.It's also how Ianto lives his life.





	

Two truths and a lie. 

The Ianto Jones game. 

He once ate a half dozen big Yorkshire puddings by himself on a dare even though he hates them. He’s exactly one minute older than his cousin Tom. He’s fallen in love with two people in his life. 

Truth. Lie. Truth. 

That’s how it works. Simple. Tell two true things and a lie for the third. Make them specific enough to be possible but bizarre enough to be unlikely. Mix them up. Present them without comment or embellishment leaving everyone else guessing which is the lie or maybe all of them are lies or maybe none of them are lies. 

It’s how Ianto Jones lives his life. 

He’s fluent in four languages. He studied anthropology at university. He failed statistics. 

Truth. Truth. Lie. 

The others don’t know him very well and he can tell they’re aware of that. Every so often he’ll reveal some part of his past and they chuckle or nod appreciatively, but there’s a hesitation there, a moment of them considering if this information fits with what they know of Ianto Jones, their smiles faltering for a fraction of a second. Tosh is the worst at this. Her face is an open book and he is a speed reader. 

That last one. That’s a truth. 

Sometimes he drops a casual lie just to see if they buy it. They always do. Owen now believes Ianto is afraid of staple guns because of a theatre scenery accident in his youth. Gwen thinks he has some kind of innate knowledge of how to make every coffee and tea drink known to man. Even Jack. He believed Ianto when he told him the scar on his stomach was from that same theatre scenery accident instead of an appendectomy scar. Jack may be from the future but he’s lived through the past and his recognition of surgical scars as distinct from scars from trauma really should be better. 

He was raised in the Jewish faith. He lost his virginity at sixteen. He had five dogs, a cat, and three turtles growing up. 

Lie. Truth. Truth. 

It hurts that none of his teammates know when he’s lying. Hurts that they don’t make the effort to get to know him better, to know that he blinks a little slower when he lies. Rhiannon figured that out when she was eight. Told him about it and he’s been hyper-aware of it ever since. Jack should have figured it out by now. But he’s off in his own world most of the time. Gwen should have realised it, too. She’s the self proclaimed heart of Torchwood, the emotional centre. But she doesn’t know. 

In primary he sent a kid to emergency with a broken cheekbone for calling him a queer. His flat is in the building next to Gwen’s. He ceases to exist as a mortal being when everyone leaves the Hub. 

Take a wild guess which is the lie. 

Maybe it’s better this way. He likes his privacy after all, and it’s not like he’s jumping at every chance to tell his life story. He likes being the mysterious Ianto, always ready with a quip and a cup of coffee, ready to whip out a piece of information everyone else seems to have passed over, who lives at the Hub behind that beaded curtain, surely. If he exists only at the Hub, they can’t turn on him for his past the way they’ve turned on each other while upset. If he exists as an ethereal being in their minds he can keep spouting bullshit and having them believe it, which is frankly more than a little amusing. 

One time in the heat of the moment during a chase-hide-retreat situation he’d kissed Owen. Owen had kissed back for half a second, then punched him square in the jaw, then kissed him again. 

Truth. Owen doesn’t remember it. He’d had to be retconned to keep from fucking up the already weak fabric of spacetime. 

When he does leave the Hub he goes straight to a bar and picks up anyone who will have him. 

Lie. He goes home and cooks himself a quiet dinner and watches telly until he passes out in his sitting room. 

His favorite book is  _ Pride and Prejudice. _

Truth. His favorite characters are Mary Bennet and Bingley. 

He has an eidetic memory. He can’t forget even when he wants to. 

Truth. Eighty-three days between Abaddon and the blowfish. Lisa smelled of WD-40 and copper and shea butter at the end. Owen is allergic to pistachios and cobalt. 

He was an average student, that is a truth. He sailed through school without so much as leaving behind his initials carved into a desk. His teachers paid him no notice. The bullies weren’t so kind. 

His mam dressed him in a little sailor outfit for church until he was ten. 

Truth. 

The others are kind, if distant towards him. They remember him while ordering dinner in and invite him out for drinks after cases wind down. He knows they think he’s funny, astute even, organised to a fault and can make a mean cuppa, but beyond that they don’t think much of him. Tea boy and all. 

Underestimation is the game and Ianto Jones is winning it. 

He, too is frozen in time. He was born in 1740. 

Lie. 

Father Christmas gave him exactly what he wanted most when he was eleven: understanding and supportive parents. And a shiny red bike with silver spokes. 

Lie. 

He was going to break up with Lisa just hours before the Cyberman attack on Canary Wharf. 

Lie. 

He finds it strangely endearing when Jack gets his way through flirting and the occasional snog with strangers and friends alike. 

Lie. 

He’s been bitten by a rattlesnake.

Truth. 

He knows more about Tosh than about anyone else on the team, though her personnel file is the slimmest. 

Truth. 

He knows everyone’s been sneaking human food to the pterodactyl and he’s training her to tattle on them when they do. 

Truth. 

In his spare time he reads through every Torchwood case file since its inception. He’s up to the ‘60s. It was a weird time. Lots of sex pollen.

Truth. 

He thinks maybe he’s in love with Jack and he can’t tell if that’s a good thing. 

Truth. 

Two truths and a lie. 

Slip heartbreaking truth in with bizarre lies so your friends aren’t quite sure if you’re falling apart or you’re practicing your comedy routine. 

The Ianto Jones game. 


End file.
